


Safe.

by merlybird500



Series: Harry Potter and the Much Better FamILY [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Half-veela Roman, Harry Potter was Adopted by Other(s), Werewolf Morality | Patton Sanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-20 22:22:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21289112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlybird500/pseuds/merlybird500
Summary: For the first time in his life, Harry feels safe.orThe aftermath of Rain.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Harry Potter and the Much Better FamILY [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1498460
Comments: 9
Kudos: 91





	Safe.

For the first time in his life, Harry almost felt safe.

The day when his life had turned upside-down, when the man called Patton swept into his life and cut the strings bonding him to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Aunt Petunia hadn’t seemed too happy when Uncle Vernon had told her that Harry was going with someone else, but she hadn’t complained.

The morning in which Patton arrived to finally take him away, Harry was filled with nerves. What if he’d imagined the whole thing? What if when Patton did arrive he’d changed his mind and didn’t want Harry anymore? What if he just didn’t show up? He tapped his toes and fidgeted his fingers, he burned the eggs twice before Aunt Petunia batted him away from the stove top. 

But his fears were unfounded, as within a week he’d been transferred out of the Dursey’s household and into Patton’s care. He had a vague memory of being half-awake, half-asleep in Patton’s arms after he and Uncle Vernon signed some papers. There was the sound of a door clicking shut, and two voices. But that didn’t matter. He felt safe, and without a word snuggled further into Patton’s arms and drifted off into the realm of sleep.

Harry woke up to the smell of french toast. He sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, taking note of the softness of the blankets he’d been wrapped in. The room around him was bathed in deep blues and greys, and the closed curtains were patterned with waves. He’d been asleep on a fold-out couch, and the blankets wrapped around him seemed to be the only not blue and grey things in the room. They were thick and warm, the red fabric patterned with golden crowns. 

He looked around. There really was a lot of blue in the room. Aunt Petunia would have a fit, like she did when he asked to paint the inside of his cupboard blue. The only other non-blue thing in the room other than the blanket around him was the door, wood painted white with a shiny silver doorknob. Then the doorknob turned, and an unfamiliar person swept into the room.

Everything about Patton was soft. He had warm brown skin the colour of the roasted almonds that Aunt Petunia enjoyed, and a head full of curls in the same shade of chocolate brown as his eyes. He was round and soft and huggable, and so very much like the Dad that Harry had always wanted.

This new person was taller than Patton, and Patton wasn’t exactly a slouch in the height department. With long, slender limbs, golden tanned skin and flaxen blonde hair tied back into an artful ponytail, he had an effortless beauty to him. That was the only way that Harry could think to describe him, the only word that would fit.

He looked surprised to see Harry awake and peered down at him, red-painted lips pursed. His green-blue eyes were winged with eyeliner like Aunt Petunia would wear when she had guests over, but longer, darker and sharp enough to cut a person. “Hmmm.” Then he smiled, all sparkling eyes and pearly-white teeth. “You must be Harry.” He had the slightest French accent, but there was another accent lilting at his words as well. Harry couldn’t place it though, but it did nothing to make the man less intimidating. 

Harry could only nod, his lips sealed shut. Patton seemed to ooze comfort, he had this aura that just put you at ease. This man made you want to stand up straight, to impress him, to prove your worth.

“My name is Roman, and it’s wonderful to meet you Harry. Patton’s been telling me all about you.”

Harry suddenly felt incredibly small. What if Patton had been saying bad things about him? Patton didn’t seem like the type of person to do that, but he’d been wrong about people before. Like Mandy Simmons, in his first year of school. She’d been nice when they met, but as soon as the next day rolled around she was mean and spiteful. 

Roman laughed, a boisterous sound that didn’t quite seem to fit his elegant appearance. “Only good things, little prince, there’s no need to fear.”

“Little prince?” Harry was puzzled. 

“Oh.” Roman looked down. “Nicknames are kinda my thing. If you don’t want a nickname, I can stop. They’re just my way of showing affection.”

Affection, huh? Little prince was definitely a nicer nickname than freak. 

“You can call me that if you want, Mr Roman,” Harry decided. 

The corners of Roman’s lips twisted upward. “You can just call me Roman then.” He offered his hand, and Harry blinked at his glittery golden nails. “Patton’s making breakfast.” He lowered his voice, leaning in as if bestowing a great secret. “He only makes french toast on special occasions, so he definitely thinks you’re a special kid.”

“Really?”

“You betcha.”

Harry took Roman’s hand, and the two of them made their way towards the kitchen. As they entered, Patton looked up from where he was depositing a piece of toast onto a porcelain plate. Behind him, an older woman with the same blue-green eyes as Roman prodded at a frying pan with a spatula. 

“Harry!” Patton beamed, teeth showing in a megawatt smile. “You’re awake!”

“Clearly,” Roman interjected, moving around the bench to plant a kiss on Patton’s cheek. 

“Oh hush you,” Patton swatted at Roman with a blue and white tea towel, and wiping at the smudge of scarlet lipstick on his cheek with his other hand. His tone was disapproving, but the fond smile on his face betrayed his real feelings. “Go sit down.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Harry asked. 

“Kiddo, you go sit with Roman. Make sure he stays out of the kitchen.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Between you and me, last time he tried to cook something he nearly burned the house down.”

“Really?” Harry whispered back.

“I heard that!” Roman said loudly.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Patton said back.

Roman huffed. “Just because it’s true doesn’t mean you have to say it.”

“I guess I bread-er be careful with what I say then.” Patton said.

The older woman chuckled. Harry didn’t really understand what was so funny, but he made his way to the table nonetheless. The seat was a little low and his chin was about level with the surface of the table. The older woman noticed, snatching a pillow off of a nearby armchair and plopping it down in Harry’s lap.

“Stick that on the chair, we can’t have you going hungry on us.” She had a thick French accent.

Roman slouched in his chair and folded his arms. “Oh, I see how it is. When Harry’s too short he gets a cushion. When five-year-old Roman’s too short, he just needs to get taller.”

“Oh sweet-art, you know we love you,” Patton said, breezing over with a plate of toast in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He placed them down in front of Roman, kissed him on the temple, and returned to the bench to grab another plate. 

“Believe me honey, I know.” Roman said, picking up his glass of water and sipping at it elegantly. 

“Roman,” the older woman said, “Would you mind going and getting your uncle for me?” 

“Sure thing Auntie Vi.”

“You know how he is in the mornings,” she grumbled fondly. “He’s more of a morning person than you were as a teenager.”

“Auntie!” Roman exclaimed, a hand flying to his chest in a scandalized manner. 

“It’s true, isn’t it? He wakes up far too early and then disappears into his studio to work on some fancy project. Sounds quite a lot like someone I know.”

Roman huffed again, and swept away dramatically, the tails of his floral-patterned robe fluttering behind him. 

Patton smiled after him fondly, and placed another plate of toast and a glass of water in front of Harry. “Give Roman a moment to fetch Uncle Lucien, then we can all eat together.”

“That sounds nice,” the older woman said, “But you know as well as I do that as soon as Lucien finishes his meal he’ll be out in his workshop.”

“It’s the thought that counts, right?” Patton said. “Besides, I want to eat breakfast as a family.”

Family, Harry thought. It had a nice ring to it.


End file.
